


When The Flames Came

by PerfectlyHopeless



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen, backstory for Asara, drabble-y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4165305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerfectlyHopeless/pseuds/PerfectlyHopeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was barely an adult when the shems took her, tortured her. </p><p>The day the flames came was the day she was set free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When The Flames Came

**Author's Note:**

> Asara is a fascinating character for me to write, I can't wait to work on her story some more. But for now, here's a brief retelling of the events that have shaped her views of the world ever since.

* * *

 

Asara held tightly to her bow as she followed the other hunters through the forest. She loved the trees, the sweet fragrance of them. The easy way that they allowed her to hide while she tracked her prey. She felt wild, as though giving the shem tales of savage Dalish some amount of truth. She had little interest in humans, however, instead her attention turned towards nothing more than some rabbits and deer. If lucky she and her companions would find a bear.

Game in sight, a large deer that paid her no mind whatsoever, the crimson haired elf hooked an arrow to her bowstring and pulled back as she aimed for its chest. If she hit it properly she'd kill the beast instantly with a single arrow. She preferred to use as few arrows as possible.

Brown eyes locked on her target and she brought her hand to the edge of her mouth. In a matter of seconds the arrow flew through the air and stuck the deer in the heart. The elf bit her lower lip to keep from cheering and scaring away the other animals.

"Garath, help me out with this one," Asara said quietly, looking around for her hunting companion. Her brows furrowed when she found that she was alone. Her insides twisted at the discovery. "Garath?"

A twig snapped in the distance, putting her on alert. She was alone, what had made that sound?

 _Okay, I'm done for the day,_ she thought, preparing another arrow. _Never hunt alone... a bear can take the deer, I should go back to the camp..._

Stepping from the shadows was a shemlen, tall and angry and charging towards her. Asara let out a shrill gasp and turned her arrow towards him. She didn't flinch as it struck through his throat. He choked on the arrow through his windpipe, hands grasping for his neck as he drowned in his blood.

Asara stepped around him, readying another arrow. Her eyes narrowed as she kept her focus sharp. Something had determined that she was the prey, and she had to prove them wrong.

The elf started to run, weapon still drawn as she headed back for her camp. It wasn't long before she found herself trapped in a net. She started to panic, feeling claustrophobic as she thrashed against the ropes that held her.

"Someone!" she cried out, grabbing for her knife. Her panic worsened when she realized it was no longer on her belt. "Garath! Masama! Help me!"

"Your little friends are either dead or dying by now," a raspy voice told her. Asara held her breath as another shem stepped into view.

"Let me down from here you bastard," she seethed.

"I will, but first you're going to tell me where the rest of you freaks are hiding." The man drew a blade from his belt, sticking her in the thigh. Asara refused to flinch, clenching her jaw.

"I'd sooner die," she growled.

"I have something better in mind..."

____________

  
She'd lost track of the days she'd spent in the cage, trapped without food or water. She felt so weak. Asara hated cages, her clan never having any need for them. She never understood the need to trap what one is afraid of, doesn't understand.

These shems, though... Bandits preying on her people. Shems weren't hunters, they were evil.

A shem with black eyes grabbed her long hair, dragging her out of the cage screaming. She'd had enough, enough pain, enough suffering. How much longer would she have to go through this?

The knives cut deep into her skin, and she cried out loudly as the shem pressed the blade to her left ear.

"Wonder what an elf looks like without those damned points," he rasped, those black eyes void of light or anything that could have shown some sign of humanity. But it was gone and he was a monster

Asara didn't know what was happening until she felt blood start to dribble down her neck. The searing pain shot through her and hot tears began to stream down her cheeks as the knife sliced through the point of her ear, cutting and ripping through cartilage. Asara screamed, and when it was gone she dared not reach for her ear, knowing that doing so would quickly lead to infection. She wouldn't die like that. She refused.

She could feel it though. When she was thrown back into the cage with her once long hair cut and mangled. They cared not about her clan now that they had a toy to torture and play with whenever they so desired. She could hear them laughing, acting like people. Shems were not people. They caused needless wars, attacked what they didn't understand instead of trying to learn. She hated how blind they could be, hated their ignorance.

Asara's hatred only strengthened each day. With each scar they left on her, each chunk of hair they tore from her scalp, she wished she was a mage like her brother. Wished she could better defend herself.

The day the flames came was the day she was set free.

It started like the others, being dragged by what little hair she had left. What changed was that the shem who pulled her out ended up with an arrow between the eyes.

The other shems were quick to stand up as their encampment was set ablaze.

"Fucking hell!" one cursed, drawing his blade. He too met his fate with arrows.

"Asara!"

She froze at the sound of the only too familiar voice. She looked up from where she lied on the ground, tears in her eyes as she saw Mahanon running to her. The First swept his staff across the ground, controlled electricity shocking the shems where they stood.

Mahanon dropped to his knees beside his sister, gathering her in his arms and holding her close. Asara wept quietly, too tired and weary to do much else.

"Ma arla... dareth... you are safe now, I promise you..." He turned his gaze up towards the shems, rage in his brown eyes. "You. You all did this to my sister."

The shems stammered, but it was too late for them. Mahanon extended a hand towards them and in a matter of moments he reduced them to little more than ash.

Asara felt dizzy from the heat even as her brother's healing magic set to work countering whatever infection had set in. She relaxed into his arms as he carried her away from the encampment. Other hunters scouted the area while they left, not letting any of the monsters get away alive for what they'd done to the others. Garath and Masama were found dead not far from them.

Asara clung desperately to her brother, unable to stop the tears. Despite having her vallaslin she was still young, and she felt like a young child as she sobbed.

"It's okay, Asa," he assured her, kissing her forehead tenderly. "Everything will be alright."

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> shemlen/shem- human(s)  
> Ma arla- My home  
> dareth- Be safe


End file.
